


A Christmas Callan

by Liadt



Category: Callan (TV)
Genre: Gen, christmas tale, heartwarming for 'Callan'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-02 21:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas: another day Callan wants to forget.</p><p>Set a year after James Mitchell's Christmas TV Times 'Callan' story and features spoilers for that story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Christmas Callan

**Author's Note:**

> James Mitchell's Christmas story can be found here:  
> [Merry Christmas from the Section](http://www.mjbird.org.uk/TVGoldzone.html)

There was a loud and persistent knocking at the front door. Callan muttered an oath and rolled over in bed. He had been asleep. What time was it? Whatever time it was, if it was still Christmas Day it was too early. He pulled the clock to his face: 10am. Which gives me how many hours ‘til Boxing Day? Too bloody many, thought Callan. His mind was clouded by both sleep and a hangover. 

Last Christmas was memorable for all the wrong reasons. He had killed a man on Christmas Eve and spent Christmas Day on his own. Almost on his own - he had a bottle of scotch, gifted to him by Lonely. This year he didn’t have that small comfort. He hadn’t seen Lonely for some time.

The knocking continued. Callan thought the sound might physically split his head in two.

“Mr Callan, Mr Callan, are you in there? It’s me: Lonely.”

Callan groaned, as if he would mistake Lonely’s voice for anybody else. It must be important for Lonely to contact him out of the blue. He didn’t fancy beating up some small time gangster at Christmas, but it would a way to say thanks for last year’s scotch.

Wrapping a bed sheet around himself, he got out of bed to open the door.

“Merry Christmas, Mr Callan,” said Lonely, while he anxiously twisted his cap in his hands.

Callan didn’t return the greeting. “What is it, Lonely?” The less talk the better, as far as the state of his head was concerned.

“Remember last year?” asked Lonely hesitantly, as he scuttled into the flat. “I don’t think you had a good Christmas and I, er, I’ve got aunts and it’s my Aunt Noelle’s 60th today. Christmas baby, she was.”

“Enough of the family album. My head’s killing me, for God’s sake, spit it out,” Callan wasn’t sure he was in a fit state to take on anyone, not even Lonely.

Lonely drew himself up to his full height and tried to speak in as formal a manner as possible. “Mr Callan would you graciously like to spend your Christmas Day with me and my family?”

Callan stared at Lonely as the words sunk in.

Unsure what to make of Callan’s silence, Lonely carried on in his usual way, “It wouldn’t be no trouble. As I said, it’s a big bash for my auntie. There’s plenty of booze and grub. My aunt could do with losing weight, fat cow.”

Poor, pathetic, faithful Lonely, thought Callan, coming here to invite me over for Christmas. Except I’m the poor and pathetic one today.

“Why, I’d be honoured to accept your invitation,” said Callan, raising the tone again. If Lonely‘s family liked a decent spread as much as him it would a party worth going to. “I’ll get changed.” He shuffled off in his makeshift toga. 

“I’ll make some coffee.” Lonely went to the kitchenette. Callan didn’t look at all good to him.

****

Callan and Lonely walked into the specially hired hall.

“Merry Christmas, David, old boy!” said Meres, raising a glass. He was perched on a bar stool near the entrance.

Callan did a double take and managed an, “And the same to you.” He couldn’t decide what surprised him more: Meres being here or the party hat sat at a jaunty angle on Meres’ head.

“I thought he was shadowing a KGB agent today. Did you invited him before me?” muttered Callan, failing to stop a note of accusation creeping into his voice. 

“It didn’t seem right to invite you here and leave you on your own. I’d like to keep you company, really I would, Mr Callan. I’ve got family things to do,” and in an undertow added “I think he was going to spend Christmas on his own and it is Christmas.”

“So it is,” said Callan, going to greet Meres properly, while Lonely was high jacked by a brace of unruly nieces and nephews.


End file.
